


can't help myself

by buddhaghost



Category: Naruto
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Banter, Blood and Injury, Episode Related, Exhaustion, I can't write fight scenes and it's probably obvious, M/M, Mentioned self-harm (not graphic), No Beta, Pining, Pre-Slash, an elaboration on like a 2 minute scene, perhaps a bit ooc, they don't even know each other's names till the end oops, which I did not re-watch while writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:40:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27827665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buddhaghost/pseuds/buddhaghost
Summary: “Puppets, dude? That’s kind of weird,” was what Kiba found himself saying.The Sand ninja scowled. “At least they don’t stink like that mutt in your arms,” he retorted.___That time when Kiba was rescued by Kankuro on the Sasuke-retrieval mission
Relationships: Inuzuka Kiba/Kankurou
Comments: 8
Kudos: 70





	can't help myself

**Author's Note:**

> hi! i'm very new to this fandom and these two literally live in my head rent free since the episode where Kankuro comes to Kiba's rescue. I had to write something for them and figured I'd share it just in case 1 or 2 other people similarly enjoy these two... ;)
> 
> disclaimer: this is unbeta'd, therefore please alert me to any grave errors that I've overlooked in my frenzy to post this. 
> 
> some dialogue from this is taken and altered slightly from the subtitles of the show. most is not.

Of all the ways to die, Kiba never imagined that this would be how he went down; cowering against a tree, unable to move, curled around a limp Akamaru as some monster-like sound ninja hunted him down.

Of course, he’d always figured he’d go down on a mission – it was the Shinobi way. Just, he’d figured it be a more _heroic_ death. Like saving a comrade or sacrificing himself for the sake of the mission. Not that he _wanted_ to die, of course; there was still so much he had yet to do, he hadn’t even become _chuunin_ yet for god sake, but if he had to go now, he was glad that at least he could say he gave it his all. Even if it wasn’t enough.

He just hoped that Naruto and Shikamaru were able to get to Sasuke. Otherwise, this whole thing was totally pointless.

Exhaustion from the fight and from his depleted chakra reserves tugged at Kiba. It would be so nice just to close his eyes and let whatever happens happen…

But no. He jolted upwards from where he’d started to slouch against the tree, adrenaline kicking in anew as Kiba gritted his teeth against a wave of pain radiating from his gut. He tensed further, holding his breath in an effort to still his abdominal muscles and numb the pain, eyes screwed shut as he focused on not making a sound. At this point, it was fruitless; Sakon, or Ukon, or whichever one was following him, would have no problem following the puddled trail he left for them upon exiting the river. It definitely put him at a disadvantage, having two pairs of eyes searching. The way that the other ninja had split into two, had _merged_ with Kiba…

Kiba shuddered involuntary in revulsion at the sensation of having that thing share his body. The overwhelming sense of _wrong_ as his limbs moved against his will, as a whole third _arm_ and _head_ poked out of him, had made it almost easy for him to turn his _kunai_ on himself.

Of course, he was regretting it now, immobilized both due to pain and from chakra exhaustion. He and Akamaru had given it everything they’d had, and still had fallen short. Now the best he could do was wait for death and accept it with honor.

And not to mention the three approaching Sand ninja he’d noticed earlier, their scent distinctive, dry and hot, like baked clay. Kiba wasn’t sure what their intention was; he hadn’t detected a killing instinct, or any distinctive scents for certain, only the sharp smell of chakra and the underlying smell of sweat, which he took to mean they’d been travelling at a fast pace for a while.

The footsteps were drawing closer, almost mocking in their leisurely pace. Kiba felt his own heartbeat start to pick up as he pressed himself further against the tree, readjusted his grip on Akamaru. It was no use – the other ninja would be able to hear it, he was sure of it. With his last remaining bit of strength, Kiba had managed to make it to a different tree to hide behind, one that lacked the obvious puddle-trail, and all he could do was hope that the Sound ninja didn’t investigate much further.

After a long moment, he tasted the air again. The scent of the other ninja was getting further away, as were the dragging footsteps. Kiba let himself relax, boneless, against the tree, breathing out a steady sigh of relief. “We’re safe,” he exhaled. Akamaru didn’t respond.

Another voice, however, did. “Who is?”

Cursing, Kiba spun around, body already jolting to respond to the threat as he was suddenly face to face with the Sound ninja’s counterpart. He itched to grab a _kunai_ from his pouch, something to protect himself with, but his arms were like wet ramen. The Sound ninja grinned at him, no longer wore the face of the demon he’d become when Kiba fought them, but his dead eyes were still things of nightmares. And he was wearing Kiba’s _jacket_ …!

Of course. Kiba wanted to smack himself. That’s why he wasn’t able to pick up this one’s scent; the ninja had masked it with his own, knowing Kiba would recognize it and account it as his own. Stupid, stupid. Now he and Akamaru were really going to die.

The ninja was laughing, amused as Kiba bared his teeth. “Impressive, I’ll admit,” Kiba said, hiding the trembling in his hands by slowing stroking Akamaru. “You understand the attributes of scent. It figures why I didn’t smell you… and having you guys split up into two to search for me also gives you a rather unfair advantage.”

The ninja chuckled, withdrawing a _kunai_. “I’m going to have fun, putting you in pieces,” he said, eyes going wide as he raised the blade.

Kiba lowered his head, still stroking Akamaru. Something still didn’t make sense… the Sand ninja. The scent was closer now, had been for some time. Almost like one of them was here, watching.

“We’ll see,” Kiba responded, not looking up from Akamaru’s matted coat. The smell of sand was stronger; he was certain that one of the ninja was either watching to make sure the Sound ninja finished the job, or perhaps was here for some ulterior motive. Either way, Kiba figured he wouldn’t live to see it, not with a crazy Sound ninja with a knife and a killing instinct mere feet from him, not while Kiba physically could not move to defend himself.

“I guess this is it, Akamaru,” he whispered. The pup didn’t respond; Kiba was almost glad that he would be saved the pain of knowing how he died. Sighing, he buried his fingers in Akamaru’s fur one last time, cringing away involuntarily as the sound ninja lunged forward with silent, deadly accuracy.

Except, between one moment and the next, a figure dropped in front of Kiba, and the kunai made a dull _thunk_ as it was buried to the hilt in a… puppet? Kiba’s mouth dropped open, and a look of blank surprise took over the Sound ninja as well.

A second figure dropped out from the trees, landing solidly behind the Sound ninja. Kiba recognized him from the _chuunin_ exams; the Sand ninja with the puppet and the purple face paint, the one that had stepped out of the fight against Shino. What was he doing here…?

“You should see your face,” the other boy said as Kiba stared at him, stunned. Then, he turned to the sound ninja. “Please don’t dismember my ally.”

The sound ninja – Sukon? Kiba genuinely couldn’t remember his name – smiled slowly. “Now this is an exciting twist of events,” he said, and then lunged.

The puppeteer and the Sound ninja danced around each other until the Sand ninja was in the position where Kiba was more or less at his back. _Protecting_ him. Kiba wasn’t sure if he should feel grateful or insulted, but as it was, not being able to even _move_ to help the other boy out was really killing him.

His mouth still worked, though.

“Watch out, there’s another one of him!” Kiba yelled in warning. “They merge with your cells to become one body. You can’t beat him!”

The puppeteer grimaced, but didn’t respond, not taking his eyes off the Sound ninja. Kiba gritted his teeth, trying to push himself into a standing position, but stopped with a choked cry as pain tore through his side for his efforts.

“Don’t move!” The puppeteer yelled. “You’ll just get in the way. I got this.”

And he did. Kiba ignored the jab at his usefulness and watched with growing astonishment as the Sand ninja beat the Sound ninja back, eventually trapping him in what he called ‘the Black Ant’. Kiba’s mouth went dry as the two-headed ninja screamed, unable to free himself from the puppet’s confines. The puppeteer’s eye twitched minutely before he orchestrated the killing blow -- something called the Iron Maiden jutsu.

The way the Sand ninja controlled the puppets, effortlessly, almost like it was a dance… Kiba would _vehemently_ deny was hot if asked. But in the moment, watching the Sand ninja work… damn. It was pretty hot.

The cries of the Sound ninja tapered off as blood continued to leak through the cracks of the Black Ant. Kiba breathed through his mouth, the scent of iron overwhelming, not taking his eyes off the Sand ninja as he methodically cleaned and stored his puppets.

Finally, the Sand ninja seemed to remember why he’d intervened in the first place, straightening up and walking over towards Kiba, who found himself transfixed by the other ninja’s face markings. He knew it was paint; could smell the pigment on the other boy, but he was curious to the meaning behind it, infatuated with the thought of dragging soft bristles against soft skin, intrigued by what the other boy’s face would look like cleared of markings –

That had to be the blood loss making his head all wonky. Kiba blinked twice in an effort to clear it, gazing up at the Sand ninja, who loomed over him, looking distinctively unimpressed.

“Puppets, dude? That’s kind of weird,” was what Kiba found himself saying.

The Sand ninja scowled. “At least they don’t stink like that mutt in your arms,” he retorted.

“What? Akamaru doesn’t stink!” Kiba retorted. “Screw you. We were fine here on our own, nobody wanted your puppet-loving ass busting in.”

The Sand ninja rolled his eyes. “Actually, your Hokage did,” he responded. “And it seemed to me like you were pretty ready to die, right there.”

Kiba opened his mouth to respond but found he had no words. If the Hokage had asked it… “So I see we’re allies now,” he said simply.

The Sand ninja nodded, falling into a crouch by Kiba’s side. “Seems so. Honestly, I’m impressed you even made it this far without our help. The Leaf shinobi really are something else.” That didn’t seem like a compliment, and Kiba didn’t take it as one.

“At least we’re not a bunch of murdering sand clowns,” he said before yelling out in pain as the other ninja jabbed rather mercilessly at his side. “Hey! What the hell was that for?”

The other ninja didn’t look up from where he was examining Kiba’s wound. “How did you get this?” he asked, voice neutral.

Kiba looked away. “I did it to myself,” he muttered. At the Sand shinobi’s incredulous, _are-you-fucking-dumb_ look, Kiba instantly leapt to his own defense. “He was inside me, man! A part of me! I had to.”

“So, you figured, ‘might as well just kill myself in an attempt to kill one half of a stupidly-powerful sound ninja’? What’s the point of that?” The puppeteer argued back.

“I had no choice!” Kiba growled. “He was going to kill me anyways, I figured I’d try to at least take us both out.” The phantom feeling of having someone else making use of his body, a foreign presence in his cells, made Kiba shudder, and he hissed as doing so irritated his wound, sending fire through his stomach.

The Sand ninja was quiet for a long moment. “Well, you didn’t die, so I guess you’re not entirely useless,” he said. Kiba rolled his eyes.

“You’re only useful because of your damn puppets,” he said. “Anyways, are you going to help me or not?”

The Sand shinobi looked at Kiba incredulously. “Am I going to – did I not just save your life?”

Kiba waved his hand. “Regardless, I’m still bleeding out,” he said, gesturing to his side. “And I’ll admit, I can’t move.”

“That’s great,” the puppeteer deadpanned, but he did reach for something in his pouch. “This should help with the that until we can get back to your village.” Without warning, the other ninja smeared some sort of grainy paste directly into the wound.

Minutes later found Kiba finally finishing dry heaving. He cut a glare at the puppeteer, who looked mildly satisfied at Kiba’s discomfort. “Give a guy some warning next time, eh?” he managed to get out once he regained control of his breathing. “What even is that? Sand?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” the puppeteer responded. Kiba gagged again, feeling the muddy shifting of the paste in his wound. No thank you. But he had to admit, the pain was definitely less intense. Whatever the sand paste was, it had a soothing affect to it. Oh wait, was this the sand that the kid Gaara used? The sand that crushed Lee’s arm and foot, the sand that turned into some freaky ass demon that almost destroyed their village…

“Can you walk?” The Sand shinobi asked, ignoring Kiba’s internal crisis.

Kiba glared at him, straightening up with a groan. “I already said it _– I can’t move_. If I could walk, do you really think I would’ve sat here and let you fight that guy alone?” He spat out.

The Sand shinobi shrugged. “I don’t know, you sort of seem like the lazy type. Either way, I didn’t really need your help.”

“Ugh,” Kiba said. Of all the insufferable assholes to rescue him, and of course he had to get stuck with _this guy_. Kiba couldn’t believe that a few minutes ago he’d been thinking about wiping the paint off the puppet freak’s face. He’d definitely been delusional at the time.

There was a moment of tense silence before the Sand shinobi awkwardly extended an arm. Kiba glanced at it, then at the other boy, who wouldn’t look at him.

“What’s this?” Kiba asked, mostly because he was an ass.

“We got to get back to your village somehow,” the Sand shinobi said, still furiously not looking at him.

“So you’re going to tote me on your arm like some frail old lady?” Kiba barked a laugh. “I’ll pass.”

The Sand shinobi scowled. “So you’d rather just sit here?” When Kiba didn’t respond, the other ninja snorted. “Stop being an ass. You need treatment, and so does your mutt.”

Kiba’s retort died in his throat. Akamaru was still in his arms, the only indication he was even still alive in the slight rise and fall of his chest, the muted heat from his belly. Softly, Kiba stroked the pup’s head again.

“Fine,” he said, and, after a moment of hesitation, reached up to grab at the Sand shinobi’s hand…

… only to end up flying through the air as the other ninja put _way_ too much effort into pulling him to his feet, somehow resulting with Kiba pressed against the other shinobi’s back. Kiba gritted his teeth as the sudden movement pulled at his wound and scrambled to protect Akamaru so the pup wasn’t crushed between Kiba and the puppeteer.

“Some _warning_!” Kiba exclaimed for the second time since the Sand shinobi showed up. Still, he squirmed as much as he was able with the chakra exhaustion still pulling at his bones until he was comfortable, chin hooked over the other ninja’s shoulder. Kiba’s hair brushed against the other boy’s cheek, and he found himself mesmerized by close contact. The contrast of the purple markings and the smooth, unblemished skin beneath was even more striking from this angle, mere inches from the other ninja’s face. The Sand ninja scowled at the proximity, nose wrinkling as Kiba’s hair brushed against his face, but he didn’t angle his head away. Instead, he simply re-adjusted his grip on Kiba, holding him more securely.

“You smell like a wet dog,” he said.

“And you smell like dry clay,” Kiba retorted. “And wood shavings.” And subtler, other things that Kiba was not going to spend time deciphering, like tangy sweat and sharp metal and soft pigment from the paints.

The Sand ninja just huffed. “Hold on,” he said, before taking off into the trees.

Kiba figured this wasn’t the most, well, _heroic_ ending to his first mission. Being carried on the back of a former enemy, weak as a pup? No thanks. But he had to admit, it was kind of nice, having someone come after him, _fight_ for him. Kiba was used to fighting his battles with just one other – Akamaru – or with equals, like Hinata and Shino, or more recently, Shikamaru and the others. But having this Sand shinobi show up and bust ass to save him… it felt good.

As did the muscled back beneath him, and the strong arms hooked under his knees, and –

Nope. Stop thinking about that, Kiba.

The rhythmic leaps and bounds were starting to lull Kiba. His body, having exhausted itself of chakra and physical strength, relished the opportunity to relax after being non-stop activated since he’d left the village with Shikamaru, Naruto, Neji and Choji.

Neji… Choji… Kiba hoped they were alright. Maybe they got lucky and had a Sand ninja sweep to their rescue, too.

Speaking of… “Hey,” Kiba said, voice weak with drowsiness. “What’s your name, puppet man?”

The puppeteer rumbled beneath his chest, either with laughter or annoyance. “I’m Kankurō,” the other ninja said.

Kiba hummed. Kankurō. Sounded slightly familiar. “I’m Kiba,” he offered, mind hazy as sleep started to take him.

Kankurō muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “when did I ask?” but Kiba could’ve sworn the tone was different. Fonder.

Smiling, he closed his eyes and let sleep take him.

**Author's Note:**

> yeah this was a lazy ending, i know.
> 
> also please note: i'm only on episode 138, all my knowledge about these two stems from their appearances in episodes up until now and my own tumblr research.
> 
> and of course, thank you so much for reading!! <3 if you are the one of the one or two other people who may have enjoyed this please let me know through a comment or a kudos!! i wish you all a lovely day.


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